The Incubus System Chapter 1246. Payment II
The Incubus System Chapter 1246. Payment II
“Your angel eye…” she breathed.
I didn’t flinch. I let her see me. All of me. “First time you’ve seen me like this,” I said, voice low, “while doing this.”
Her lips curled upward, but it wasn’t her usual smug grin.
It was something darker. Wilder.
“Indeed,” she said softly. “The usual you… the incubus… he’s sin draped in confidence. He fits in moments like this. But this…”
Her fingers dragged from my jaw to my neck, her nails grazing the skin there like she was trying to map it. Understand it.
“This version of you… the half-holy one… The killer one…”
She leaned closer, lips grazing the corner of mine but not pressing. Just lingering. Just enough to make my breath hitch.
“…You look like something else entirely.”
I tilted my head slightly. “What? Never thought something holy would do something so nasty?”
She chuckled. A slow, throaty sound that curled all the way down her spine.
“Maybe,” she whispered. “Or maybe I’m just curious if that divine light of yours interferes with the hunger you keep buried.”
I let my eyes flash brighter.
“We’ll see about that.”
My hand slid over her thigh again—firm, patient. I didn’t rush. I wanted her to feel it. My palm traced along the edge of her lace, fingers curling around the band of her underwear.
She didn’t stop me.
Didn’t tense.
Her legs rose and spread, giving me full access. I pulled the lace down slowly. Bit by bit. Let it slide from her skin, dragged it down the path of her hips and thighs. One of her legs curled around me as the silk hit the floor, forgotten.
And then I saw it.
Pink. Glowing faintly with heat. Wet already. Glimmering.
I paused.
Smirked.
“Well, well…” I murmured, eyes locked there like a hunter watching his favorite prey. “Wet already?”
Her cheeks colored—softly. Rare for her. But it was there. A flush climbing her cheekbones, her voice just a notch thinner than usual.
“Stop staring at it,” she snapped.
I grinned, full demon now. “You’re the one who wanted payment at the front, my queen. Don’t act so shy now.”
She hissed something in her own silk-tongue, a curse or a threat—but her legs didn’t close.
No. She tilted her hips instead. Inviting. Daring.
I didn’t need more of a signal.
I leaned in and pressed my mouth against her sweet, hot flesh.
And she tasted divine.
Not just sweet. Not just wet. She was addictive. Poisoned silk and honeyed heat. My lips parted, my tongue pressed in—and I heard her cry out above me, one hand slapping against the nearest pillar of web to steady herself.
“Ahn!” She shuddered when I sucked.
I buried my face into her warmth, my hands gripping her thighs, my tongue working with all the hunger I’d been holding back since I stepped into this room. I didn’t tease. I devoured.
Syntyche moaned above me—raw and unguarded. One of her spider legs tangled in the web above, another wrapped tight around my back, clutching like she was anchoring herself.
Her hips jerked forward when I curled my tongue just right. Her voice cracked when I sucked again, wetter this time, louder. The chamber was spinning in silk and heat and scent, and I was getting feral.
The holy and the hell inside me both wanted her.
Both claimed her.
And my mouth showed no mercy.
“You’re mine,” I growled against her slick folds, voice vibrating into her. “Say it.”
She whimpered. Actually whimpered. A queen. My queen.
“Y-yours,” she gasped, her voice trembling, head thrown back.
“Louder.”
“Yours!”
Her whole body tensed when I bit—gently—then kissed again, tongue flicking deep and slow until her moans spilled like silk across the floor.
And I didn’t stop.
Not until I felt her legs quake.
Not until I tasted her surrender on my tongue.
And even then—I kept going.
Because she wanted payment at the front.
And I was just getting started.
She was breathless—literally breathless. Chest rising and falling like waves during a moonstorm, mouth parted, fangs barely peeking out, her crimson eyes clouded with that blend of want and frustration. That desperation she hated to admit. Her throne of woven velvet and silk strands creaked under her shifting weight as her eight legs curled and flexed, catching tension like a net strung between us.
Her voice was a ragged whisper, dragged out from the edges of a moan.
“I almost came…” she breathed, eyes fluttering like she hated herself for the admission. “Damian, I was so close—”
I pulled back. Slowly. Deliberately.
My mouth glistened with her wetness, and a single thread of saliva still connected my tongue to the heat of her flesh, catching the glow of the silk-lanterns in a way that made it look like silver. I licked my lips slowly, savoring the taste, and watched her thighs twitch when I didn’t dive back in.
Then I leaned down and bit the inside of her thigh.
Not hard. Just enough. A small sting, a tiny gasp, a mark left behind. A proof that I just enjoyed this.
Her breath hitched, and her leg flexed tight around my back like it wanted to crush me and never let go.
But I pulled back again. I crawled upward—slow, confident, predatory. The way a king moved when he knew his prey wasn’t trying to escape. She was waiting. Wanting.
“No,” I murmured near her ear, voice thick and wicked. “You can’t come yet.”
Her fingers curled into the chaise. Her lips trembled. She let out a whimpering noise—part rage, part begging. And damn, it was beautiful.
As I climbed over her, I let one hand drag along the silk-draped armrest, the other trailing up her side like I was mapping a treasure route—slow and deliberate. When I reached her jaw, I tilted her head toward me with just two fingers and ran my thumb gently down the edge of her face, down her throat.